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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573688">Rosalind the Teenage Witch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_inks/pseuds/indigo_inks'>indigo_inks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, F/M, Large Cock, Multiple Orgasms, Parent/Child Incest, Sex Pollen, Squirting, Witchcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:21:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_inks/pseuds/indigo_inks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The brownies were meant for the girls, not her dad.</p><p>Oh well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daughter Who Baked Sex Pollen Brownies/Dad Who Ate One by Accident, Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Heat Fic Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Rosalind the Teenage Witch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_lailah/gifts">ba_lailah</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rosalind was in the living room checking her phone and enjoying the scent of freshly-baked brownies cooling on the rack in the kitchen when her dad wandered in and sat down on the sofa beside her.</p><p>He was, she realized, licking his fingers. “Good brownie, Ros,” he said. “I probably should’ve waited a little while longer, though. I think I may have burnt my tongue.”</p><p>“Oh, Daddy, nooo! Didn’t you see my note?! I made those special for the girls!” Rosalind whined.</p><p>“Father’s prerogative. I’m sure the girls’ll get over having one less brownie,” her dad said. He sucked on his teeth and shrugged.</p><p>Rosalind sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and simmered with anger, no longer paying any attention to her incoming messages. She’d really, really meant it when she’d put a piece of paper with DON’T EAT! (all caps inclusive) written on it next to the brownies, and she was telling the truth when she said she’d made them special for the girls.</p><p>Well. Technically speaking, they were for the girls of her coven to give to their chosen boys on Spring Equinox. Same difference, right?</p><p>Witchcraft wasn’t something you learnt. You either had the magic or you didn’t. As for Rosalind, well – she had it, and at the tender age of fifteen years old she was already the head of the Salem coven. She’d won the leadership role fair and square in a magical duel nearly four years ago, and she’d successfully defended her position against all challengers ever since. Rosalind was the most powerful witch in ten generations, easy.</p><p>And as for her dad? Her dad had not the slightest inkling that she was anything other than a normal teenager who spent too much time on her phone with the girls. None of Salem’s men had any idea what lived among them, actually. That made holidays like the Spring Equinox so much fun – a witch could have any man or boy she wanted, however and however much she wanted him, and he would be as eager for her as she was for him. He just wouldn’t remember anything they’d done afterward.</p><p>That particular bit of magic was what the brownies were for. <em>And her dad had just eaten one, grrr.</em></p><p>Rosalind studied her dad surreptitiously out of the corner of one eye. He was shifting on the seat cushion, like he couldn’t quite get comfortable, and he was massaging his groin through the fabric of his jeans like he had an itch down there.</p><p>“Something the matter, Daddy?” Rosalind asked innocently. Anger was losing to professional interest. How long would her brownies take to work?</p><p>“Huh? No, nothing.” Her dad snatched his hand away from his groin and reached for the television remote. He turned the tv on – Dr. Phil, yuck! – and feigned immersing himself in the action.</p><p>Heh. So much self-control. Except her dad <em>hated </em>Dr. Phil! Rosalind returned half of her attention to her phone screen, but she kept the other half on her dad. Her brownies were potent; she knew his valiant attempts at self-control weren’t going to last.</p><p>And sure enough. Although her dad continued staring blankly at Dr. Phil’s doughy face, her dad’s hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They unzipped her dad’s fly, hauled out is semi-hard cock, and began to stroke. He needed both hands for that particular task.</p><p>Rosalind licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. No way was he thinking about Dr. Phil! <em>She</em> was the only other person – hmm. Okay, now her interest wasn’t purely professional. She’d seen her dad’s dick before, of course; he was a widower and a single father who’d raised her alone, and the occasional full-frontal was impossible to avoid. But she’d never seen him like <em>this</em>. He was a grower for sure, nine inches at least and nearly as thick as her wrist, and she watched as he rolled the foreskin up and down over the glans with one hand while with the other he gripped the base of his shaft and squeezed his ball sac. Ahhhh, she’d never seen her dad’s glans before, and it was beautiful, moist and glossy and finely pointed at the tip – perfect for fucking.</p><p>The sight was making her wet, slick fluid flowing out from her like a river. She wasn’t wearing panties. She never wore panties in the house. Her inner muscles began to clench and release, clench and release. “Daddy…” she murmured, wanting, not quite believing that she wanted…</p><p>He turned on her, lightning quick, the fabric of the pretty floral-printed skirt of her housedress torn open. Her breasts, belly, and pussy were exposed. She shrieked, more from the shock of it than anything else, but he was already on top of her, and his cock was already between her legs, rubbing at her folds, her clit, seeking entry…and finding it.</p><p>The first shove took him halfway. Rosalind arched, groaning, the stretch exquisite, wider than anything she’d ever felt before. Her dad rocked against her, pants down around his knees, thighs and buttocks trembling, and pounded against her tightness, her remaining fleshy resistance, and came in wild spurts. The added lubrication must’ve done the trick. With an inarticulate roar and a thrust that had the entirety of his not inconsiderable body weight behind it, he struck bottom.</p><p>The pain of complete penetration by her dad’s big dick was blinding; for a moment, Rosalind forgot how to breathe. His balls were crushed against her taint, and his cock was rammed against her cervix like he would fuck straight through it and into her womb if he could. He came again, the semen so profuse that Rosalind couldn’t keep it all inside; it slid back out of her again, smearing between her and her dad as he continued his thrusts, no sign of stopping, filling the air with the sounds and smells of animal lust.</p><p>“Daddy,” Rosalind said as she wrapped her limbs around her father’s body, seeking at better angle. Who cared if this was wrong? It felt so right! She couldn’t move underneath him to match his rhythm; the only thing she could do was submit to it. He was mouthing her neck, her throat, the swells of her breasts and her nipples as he plowed her, and with the new angle he was hitting her g-spot with his cock with every inward thrust, and his pubic bone was rubbing against her clit. She had a big clit that stuck well out above the thatch of her pubic hair when it was engorged – did she take after her daddy in this regard?</p><p>She had no sense of buildup, of shivering or tension. She just came and came and came, impaled on her dad’s huge cock, and at one point she felt the involuntary, hot liquid gush of a squirting orgasm filling what little space remained between her and her dad’s bodies.</p><p>That was <em>intense</em>. She’d never ejaculated before. She hadn’t thought it was possible.</p><p>Her father filled her yet again with his semen but otherwise took no notice of Rosalind’s remarkable orgasm…or anything else. On the television, Dr. Phil signed off and Judge Judy convened her tv court. The brownies’ magic was intended to last all night and at this rate, it wouldn’t wear off until well past midnight. After that, presuming the magic worked as intended, he would fall asleep till morning and wake up having completely forgotten what had transpired. That, though, was <em>hours </em>away. They were in this for the long haul.</p><p>As her father worked himself toward his fourth but by no means final orgasm, Rosalind smiled and wondered how the girls would feel if she invited her dad to their Spring Equinox celebration. He was rather old for her, that was true, but she was also true that she wouldn’t find a bigger cock anywhere in Salem.</p>
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